Bruises and Bite Marks
by sorrowsongbird
Summary: She stared ahead, not bothering to acknowledge the taunts that we so obviously meant to bring her to her breaking point. The whispers surrounded her, swirling around her being and pounding against her already fragile heart. When it became too much, she rounded on him, her eyes like blue fire. He took a step back, fearing the worst. But she only ran away.
1. Don't Flinch

Callie's body was pressed against Kyle's as they danced. The bass was loud and low; vibrating the floor each time it left the giant speakers at the front of the club's dance floor. The nineteen-year-old man smirked down at his girlfriend, clearly a foot or two shorter than him. She opened her glassy eyes and smiled up at him brilliantly in the darkness of the club. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to kiss her. His hands slid down her back to grip her butt. She pulled back and gave him a teasing smile. As she spun around, she raised her arms and laid an icy palm against his cheek behind her as she danced to the beat. Kyle began to kiss her neck softly and let his hands slide down her sides to rest on her lower stomach. The fifteen-year-old girl smiled playfully and closed her eyes, reveling in the thrill of her drunken ecstasy.

Kyle pulled away from her neck to murmur in her ear. "Let's get out of here," he said seductively, a lilt to his voice that made chills run down her spine. Callie smiled and nodded swiftly in agreement. She lifted his hands from her stomach and led him expertly through the crowd and towards the front door.

"Hold on, babe," he said suddenly as they neared the entrance. She groaned, letting her impatience and irritation creep into the sound, and followed him back to the bar.

"One for the road." he said with a grin. She lifted her slim shoulders and let them drop in a shrug. Her eyes drifted across the club, not noticing when Kyle paid for their drinks with money from her wallet. He looked over her shoulder and smiled coyly, pointing to something behind her. "Hey, isn't that Derek?" he asked as she turned around. She searched the crowd of people for the friend he'd mentioned, temporarily distracted while he poured a bit of powder into her drink.

"I don't see him," she replied, her voice conveying her disappointment. She frowned over at her boyfriend.

The cunning man shrugged lightly. "Oh well," he said as he handed her the tainted drink. "We'll see him later, then." She smiled a little at him and nodded before taking the glass. Both of them downed it in one gulp and left the glasses on the bar for the bartender to take care of later.

The couple laughed as they hurried out of the bar and climbed into Kyle's car, a flaming-red Chevy Camaro. Callie buckled up instantly, making Kyle roll his eyes as he revved the engine and sped out of the parking lot towards his apartment.

Once they were inside, Kyle roughly pulled Callie against his body, pressing his lips against hers, eager to finally do what he had been waiting to do for so long. He hadn't touched her during the entire car ride, afraid he might crash his beloved car.

But now that they were safely in the building, she kissed him back with great enthusiasm. She giggled softly as their tongues danced and he picked her up by the hips. Callie wrapped her legs around his waist and started unbuttoning his shirt as he carried her to the bedroom, the drugs making her mind a warzone. He tossed her onto the mattress and pulled his shirt off completely before going at his girlfriend's. She laughed as he ran his fingers up the cream colored tank top she wore, the girl being extremely ticklish. He forced a smile, always annoyed by that. She pressed her lips together, stopping her giggles as she sat up fully, stripping the barrier off in a swift movement. He flashed a mischievous smirk and attacked her mouth, while pulling off Callie's jeans.

She didn't protest as she normally would have, which pleased him greatly. _Perfect_, he thought as the rest of their clothes were removed. _The drugs are working great! I've got to remember to thank Derek for them._

After stripping himself of the rest of his clothing, and without thinking about the pain it would cause the virgin girl under him, he thrust his member forcefully into her, shoving himself half of the way in. She broke away from his lips and cried out in agony, her vision blurring with tears.

"Kyle," she gasped, "stop. It hurts."

She bit back the urge to start crying, knowing it would only make her situation worse. Anger flashed through his eyes and she immediately regretted it. He smacked her right across the face, leaving a bright red hand print on her extremely pale skin. Callie, stunned and breathless from pain, spoke and barely registered what she said next. "Never mind, it's not that bad."

Kyle blinked rapidly, the anger slowly fading from his eyes. But they were as hard as steel, and there was a determination to get what he wanted from her.

"That's what I thought," he muttered. He blinked a few more times, and then his eyes seemed to lose their focus; his pupils dilated. He leaned down, still only halfway inside her. "Just keep your fucking mouth shut." he growled. "You're mine." he added, his voice low and terrifying. A chill ran up her spine, not from his accent this time, and nodded slowly. Kyle pulled away from her ear and crashed his lips back to hers. He bit her bottom lip hard, knowing it was one of her turn-on's. Her back arched, causing her to press her bare chest to his and moan deeply.

"I thought you'd like that," he hissed as he pushed further into her. Callie groaned, purposefully making it sound more from pleasure than pain, even as she felt like she was being torn apart right up the middle. She forced herself to keep from crying, no matter how much she wanted to. He sighed and pulled out a bit before slamming into her again, going even further this time. She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes, a small tear escaping her. His smile turned into a sinister smirk as he pulled out again, kissing her deeply at the same time that he thrust into her. She kissed back enough to satisfy him, the tears running freely now.

"Don't worry, babe," he sighed against her lips. "This is amazing..."

She whimpered, too soft for him to hear as he sped up. His hips clashed into hers rhythmically; his eyes closed in response. His breath was coming in loud pants while he moved his hands over her flat stomach, completely oblivious to her pain and distress. Finally, he groaned loudly, slamming into her a final time before shooting his seed into her. After what seemed like forever, he laid partly on her, panting loudly in her ear. After a few minutes, his breathing calmed and he pulled out of her completely. She took a shaky breath before he kissed her lightly on the lips. Kyle rolled over, a satisfied smiled gracing his handsome face, and fell asleep next her, facing away from her and still naked.

It seemed like hours had passed before Kyle started up his characteristic snore. Making sure he was completely asleep, she slipped out of the bed and made her way down the hallway to his bathroom. The tears ran heavily down her cheeks again; she was in excruciating pain just from the ten or fifteen steps. She closed the door behind her and turned on the shower all the way to hot. Moving in front of the mirror, Callie inspected herself. With blurry vision, caused by the drugs Kyle had given her, she could see the bruises covering her pale skin, obvious along her face, neck, and arms. Blood ran down her legs and was smeared across her stomach and midsection. Hatred and sadness tugged at her heart and she hit the light switch, turning off the light so she would no longer have to see the telling marks of her broken promises.

Feeling her way towards the shower, she carefully stepped into the scalding hot water. Her breath came in a low hiss as it burned her always-icy skin and left painful, angry red marks across her arms and back. Callie did not, however, turn down the heat of the water. She felt like she'd deserved the pain she was receiving, partially for allowing the previous incident to happen and also for everything else she'd done in her relatively short life. Without reason, she glanced down at the water that ran off her body as it flowed toward the drain. Mercifully, she couldn't see it.

Suddenly, she began sobbing, not knowing what else to do. Her mind reeled as she thought of everything that was wrong with this picture. What if she'd gotten pregnant? Would she be able to get away from Kyle? Callie had tried that before, but he somehow always found her. At least it was only Holiday Break and she could escape from him and back to her friends at Hogwarts before anything worse could happen. Then a new wave of panic hit her, turning her sobs into soft hysterics. What would her friends think of her? She knew they would all be supportive and consoling, helping her protect herself from the abusive relationship she had hid from them. But what if she _had_ gotten pregnant? Would they shun her? Or be angry at her?

Callie cried in the almost-boiling water for a long time, eventually calming enough to wash up and get out. She wrapped a towel snugly around her, ignoring the flames that licked at her blistered skin from the touch, and slipped silently into Kyle's room. He snored loudly, signaling that he was still very much asleep. She sighed in relief and bit her lip hard as she got dressed, making sure to not make a sound. Once fully clothed, she returned to the steam-filled bathroom and dried her dark brown hair by quickly rubbing it with the towel. She sneaked out of the bathroom and down the hall and to the front room. Throwing on her sweatshirt and grabbing her bag, she hesitated. With one final glance at the bedroom where Kyle slept, she hurried out of the apartment and out the building.

Callie ran as fast as she possibly could to the main street and hailed a taxi. She gave the driver the address to 12 Grimmauld Place, where she knew Harry and the Weasley family was staying for the holidays. Her eyes stung, threatening to spill more tears but she swallowed the lump in her throat. Finally, the cab arrived at the top of the street.

"Right here is fine," she alerted him, and he pulled off to the side even though the street was empty. She gave him a handful of bills, knowing it was much more than needed. "Happy Christmas," she said in a rush as she hopped out.

"And the same to you," he replied, grinning broadly and pulling away the second her door was shut.

She walked down the street, looking for the place where the houses seemed to have skipped a number. Her heart jumped with homesickness when she saw it. She then stepped onto the sidewalk in front of the building. The houses on one side began to shake and shift over, revealing a whole other building. Callie pushed the gate open and hurried up the front steps, slipping in very quietly.

She figured that the occupants of Grimmauld Place would be asleep, and tiptoed through the Entrance Hall until she came into the kitchen where she saw Sirius Black and Molly Weasley murmuring quietly. Sirius appeared disgruntled and Molly was obviously triumphant, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth as she knit colorful threads into a strange looking garment. Sirius, having seen someone in his peripheral vision, turned to glare at the intruder. But upon seeing Callie, the irritation dissipated into joy, and then into dismay as he caught the expression in her eyes.

"Callie?"

Molly turned surprise evident on her worry-lined face. She tossed her work to the floor and hurried to Callie's side, who flinched away when Molly tried to hug her.

"What happened dear?" She asked, not bothering to hide to the hurt and confusion in her voice. Callie didn't say anything, and merely shook her head. She had never been good at hiding her emotions, and knew that her voice would betray her if she opened her mouth.

"Do you need to sit down? You look like you're going to pass out. Come here dear," Molly grabbed Callie's hand and pulled her to the chair she had previously occupied. Slowly lowering herself onto the agonizingly hard surface, Callie steeled herself for the questions she knew were coming, not only from Molly and Sirius, but from the rising teenagers upstairs. Callie could hear their quiet voices and heavy steps.

"What's happened to you?" Sirius asked his voice like ice. Sirius had always been like a father to her, for as long as she could remember. She had returned to Grimmauld Place in similar states, but it had never been this bad. There had been times when she would be so thin they were afraid to touch her, for fear of breaking her. There had been times where there had been dark splotches along her jaw, neck, and further down to where they were no longer visible behind her baggy sweatshirts. And they had never thought to ask her where they had come from; never thought to ask her who would dare lay their hands on her.

"Nothing," she whispered, her voice cracking. She lowered her eyes to her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap. Sirius scoffed and grabbed her chin with a gentleness that belied his livid expression. His eyes had ignited into grey fire.

"Do you call this nothing?" He hissed, his fingers tightening ever-so-slightly on her jaw. Unable to control the sudden onslaught of emotions, Callie whimpered and cowered away from him. He pulled his hand back as though he had been burned, and his fierce expression died into something like defeat. He suspected; he _knew_. But she couldn't bring herself to confirm his fears.

"I'm tired," she murmured, so quietly Molly had barely heard her. "I'm tired."

"Of course you are dear!" Molly wrapped a protective arm around Callie's waist and pulled her up from the chair. "Sirius, can she use your room for tonight? The Order is here and the rest of the rooms are full…"

"She can," Sirius said, turning to stare into the dying fire. His expressionless eyes reflected the glowing embers in such a way that chilled Callie. She had hurt Sirius. Who else would she hurt?

"Come on, dear," Molly murmured and led Callie up the stairs. She tried to hide the fact that she was wincing with every step she took, but Molly could see the pain in her expression. The older woman opened up a door to her left and led her into the room.

"If there's anything you need… anything at all… please, don't be afraid to ask."

Callie kept her back turned, trying to hide the fact that she was on the verge of tears. She nodded and stood there until she heard the door open and close again. Callie numbly pulled back the blankets of her bed and crawled under them, curling into a tight ball, wrapping her arms around her legs. Her breath quickened into short pants as the night's events came crashing down back on her. Her whole body shook with the sobs that she wanted so badly to let out, but she only cried silently to herself before exhaustion won, and her world turned black.


	2. Indumentum Oris

You can look into his eyes and tell yourself he's not human. You could justify his actions and words, but never try to see past the mask. A mask is all it is, you see; the mask of a vulnerable young man who hates the world. This is why you hate him. This is why you do not understand.

Anger. Hatred. Fear. The pupils close.

Happiness. Laughter. Affection. The pupils open.

He appears hostile and standoffish. He doesn't want you to know just how empty he is inside. When he tries to stay away, you accuse him. Pointing your fingers at his back when he turns, you exile him to the part of your heart reserved for enemies.

_He is the enemy, he is the enemy. _It has become your daily obsession. But doubt plagues you. Why does he run, when he never has before?

Why?

The answer evades you.

* * *

**Hey guys. Sorry for the long wait, and the disappointingly short chapter. I know it's short (only about a hundred words. Crazy, I know) but I promise it will go somewhere with this. Think of it as a sort of foreshadowing. Who is it talking about? Why is it in second person? Who is the one who hates this unknown person so?**

**Tell me in a review.**

**xoxo**

**~Song**


	3. Dust in the Wind

**Hey guys. I decided to delete the third chapter and update it with this one. I didn't like how that other one went with the story, and didn't think it would play well into the plot line, so I hope this one does a little bit better, because I quite like it. Secondly, I would like to thank everyone that has reviewed, favourited, followed, and read my story. I appreciate you guys more than you know, and every update and revision is for you all!**

**ENJOY**

**xxx Dust in the Wind xxx**

* * *

He blinked; once, twice, three times. The sunlight was streaming unapologetically through the window. Despite his irritation at its brightness, he was coaxed into a stupor by its warmth. He sighed and rolled over, turning onto his stomach, facing away from the increasing brightness.

"Draco, dear, wake up or we'll be late." His mothers' voice whispered in his ear, fading quickly into echoes. He shook his head and groaned, reluctant to be awake at such an early hour. His mother loved to wake him up in a way that made him want to stay asleep, but when he didn't wake up, she would do something that would make him jump out of bed as quick as he could. Her favorite thing to hit him with was a Stinging Hex.

"Five more minutes, mother," his voice echoed, fading in and out, fluxing in strange patterns. "Mother?"

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. When he opened them, he almost screamed. Why couldn't he see? Just moments ago there had been sunlight on his face, warming him; irritating him. And his mother… where was his mother? He kicked his legs free of his sheets and slid off his bed. When his feet touched the floor, if there even was a proper floor, it was cold and rough.

"Mother?" His voice echoed again, and he shivered. Any sound reverberated off whatever walls that were surrounding him and made the room seem to vibrate. This place, wherever it was, was scaring him. Draco didn't like to admit his fears, but he couldn't help but feel the fear of being in a dark room all alone. It was his worst fear, being alone.

_"__Don't worry about me love. I'll be fine…"_

She was speaking, but where was she? He wanted to run, he wanted to move forward and find her, but he couldn't move. His feet seemed as though they were nailed to the floor. There were sharp pains, starting at his feet, and working their way up his body. _What is this magic?_

Everything began to spin suddenly, so suddenly that he fell to his knees. His hands hit nothing, and he was falling, grasping at the air that wouldn't help him. There was nothing to hold on to, nothing to slow his fall. Colors, hundreds of colors whirled past him, swirling together to create images; images of memories from before his life began. There was his mother bruised and bloody on the floor, crying over Draco's unconscious form. And his father, malicious triumph seeming to be the only emotion he was capable of.

Then everything stopped, and he could feel the ground again. Draco gasped, trying to regain his steady breath and ease the pounding of his heart.

_"__Draco, please go back to bed. Your father will be home soon…"_

The slamming of a door made Draco jump, and suddenly, his home of ten years ago surrounded him. He stared down at his small, six year old hands, and then up at his mother, who was staring above his head at something he had yet to see. Draco turned, staring up at his father. Now recognizing the stench, he could smell alcohol and a strange perfume on his father. He understood now, even though he was once again a six year old boy.

_"__What are you doing up, boy? Your mother told you to go to bed." _

Lucius Malfoy stared down at his son, his voice slurring as he spoke and his vision blurring as he swayed. Mrs. Malfoy stood and tried to steady her husband, but he knocked her down angrily, his eyes focusing long enough to glare at her with contempt.

_"__Don't lay a hand on me, woman," _he growled. Then he focused on his son. _"You insolent child…"_

Draco turned on his heel, trying to run, but his father, though inebriated, was faster than he was. Mr. Malfoy grabbed his son by his forearm and flung him to the ground with a loud _thud_. Draco rolled and slammed against the foot of the staircase, a sickening crack echoing against the heavy silence.

_"__Draco!" _Mrs. Malfoy scrambled over to her son, but never reached him. Lucius grabbed his wife, pulling her up from the ground, and shook her, her teeth rattling with the force he was exerting.

_"__Don't baby him, Narcissa, the stupid boy needs to grow up," _he shook her some more, but she wasn't looking at him. Her eyes were on Draco, her only son, who was unconscious and bleeding profusely from his side.

_"__Please, let me go to him!" _She cried. Lucius curled his lip in a snarl and slapped her across the face. The ring on his finger sliced across her cheek. Blood sprang up from the wound, but she still wasn't paying her husband any mind.

_"__You're as bad as he is. Now I know where he gets it from." _Lucius threw her to the ground and kicked her in her side, hard. She cried out and collapsed onto her back. Her husband pressed his shoe against her stomach and held her down. He stared at her for a moment, his glassy eyes searching her face. Apparently satisfied, he removed his foot and walked away, muttering under his breath.

Narcissa Malfoy crawled to her son and pulled him onto her lap. She murmured soothing words to him, smoothing his platinum hair from his face. _"Shh, it'll be alright now, he won't hurt us any more tonight."_

Draco's eyes opened, his eyelids dragging, his eyes rolling until they focused on her face. _Why does it hurt so bad, if it's only a dream? _He tried to speak these words, but what came out instead was, "Mother… you're bleeding."

Her hand touched her cheek and pulled away. She stared down at the blood on her fingers and chuckled ruefully. _"I'll be alright. It's you we need to worry about."_

Without removing his eyes from her face, his hand slid down to his side. His white nightshirt was soaked with blood, and his side throbbed as though it had it's own pulse. He winced as his hand touched the wound, his breath hissing out between his teeth. His mother gently took his hand and set it on the ground. She slid him slowly off her lap and removed her wand from the folds of her robes. _"Just close your eyes, love. I'll be with you in the morning..."_

Everything was going dark again. Narcissa Malfoy began to blur away, fading around the edges and blowing away as if she were dust in the wind. Draco cried out, reaching for her. There was no more pain, only the dark, cold, abyss that had swallowed him once more.


End file.
